


A Strange Case of Body Switch

by kochel626



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Accidental Body Swap, Dubious Consent, F/M, Gender or Sex Swap, M/M, One Shot, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 16:32:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4926943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kochel626/pseuds/kochel626
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Root wakes up one morning in Reese's body.<br/>She goes to Harold and questions him what she wanted to know for a long time and seduces him.<br/>The setting is right after s03e17 titled "/".</p>
<p>While canon relationship remains, this story was created as a brief affair between the two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The story is originally in Korean and beautifully written by a brilliant author xilonen(실로넨 님).  
> The original story is already complete, and the full translation will not take longer than a month (hopefully).  
> Any suggestions regarding English expressions are welcome and appreciated!
> 
> The story focuses on mainly Root/Finch relationship, but it also deals with Reese/Finch!

1.

6:03:24 a.m.

Root soon realized that she woke up in one of Harold Finch's safe houses.  
As she pushed herself from the corner of a super king-sized mattress, she noticed at a downward glance her thick lower body with boxers and big coarse bare feet, and frowned.  
"What's happening?"  
But she didn't hear any answers. "Hah," Root was at a loss for words. Unconsciously she tried to touch her hair but couldn't, because her hair was cut short.  
This must be John Reese's body.  
The bed sheet beside her, which must have been occupied last night, was already made neatly. She only saw that Harold was absent in the stillness of dawn.  
She looked at her bare chest and shoulder, and ignored an unhygienic-looking grey t-shirt tumbling under the bed.  
The link between her consciousness and the unfamiliar body seemed to work fine.  
Root acted with composure.  
After she found out that she had little problem in handling her new 7-inch taller body, she grabbed Reese's cellphone first.  
As if it has been waiting, it displayed the message from an unknown number.  
'In 4 hours, Library'  
Leaving the gravity of the situation aside, Root snorted with laughter, imagining the helper monkey's embarrassment at finding himself at her hotel bedroom.  
She wasn't worried about her body any more. She had no doubt that Reese would follow the Machine's instructions well. Following directions was his job anyway.

After taking out the battery from the phone, she entered the bathroom. It was in order to deal with the usual physiology of a healthy mid-40's body.  
As she drained herself, she had a close look at John's penis.  
She was impressed as she guessed its volume and length at erection. 'It's quite something' There was dried semen around his hair.  
"Hmm, Harry must have some troubles in many ways."  
Even though the Machine did not answer, she talked to herself habitually.  
Root considered what to use passing her eyes over the objects in the shower stall. Most of the cologne, shower gels, and shampoos smelled of Harold.  
"My gosh, does this man take care of everything with a soap?"  
Shuddering at the thought, she picked up Harold's shower tools. As she rubbed her face in the water, she looked at the mirror.  
The mirror reflected a strange man's face, but Root recognized that the eyes and the expressions were her own.  
Objectively, it was handsome, but his face didn't appeal to her. She found the stubble but ignored to shave it. After some contemplation, she picked up a disposable razor and brought it to John's armpit.

 

 

2.

At the same time, John Reese.  
The dressing table mirror showed Root standing with only a camisole.  
Her trembling hand barely touched her Halloween witch-like tousled hair. Not knowing where to place his arms, Reese stiffened.  
Then he heard the Machine's voice in his right ear.

CAN. YOU. HEAR. ME?

Unconsciously he fumbled behind his ear and felt the surgical scar.  
The stream of information related to tracking Decima jolted him into action. Scowling, Reese started looking for Root's clothes according to the Machine's order.


	2. Chapter 2

3.

8:53:12 a.m.  
Reese showed in the corridor of the library later than usual.  
"Good morning, Harold."  
"Ah, Mr. Reese!"  
Finch, standing with his tea cup in his hand, hobbled to his direction and spilled out words.  
"I was almost bewildered to have lost all contact with you. I watched the cctv image, to find out if you were in any serious matter.  
You were just sitting on a sofa. Are you feeling unwell?"  
"I'm sorry Harold."  
At that moment Finch thought that Reese's smile was overly dazzling. Reese didn't explain any further. Finch had no choice but to consider Reese's silence as an affirmative to his question. Reese hung his beanie and muffler, then moved to grab the new number's photo on the transparent board. Finch alternately looked at the photo and Mr. Reese.  
"Ms. Shaw is out. If you're not feeling well, you should go back and rest."  
"Where is Bear?"  
"You saw that Detective Fusco took him yesterday."  
"Ah-ha."  
Finch got nervous. Though it was a rare occasion, Reese's state didn't seem right in an intangible manner.  
He forgot to unfasten an extra button on his shirt today. Although he took off his beanie just now, his grey hair didn't seem rumpled.  
"John, you should rest today."  
Finch suggested a break again. But Reese only circled around the desk, dragged a chair, and put it behind Finch's seat.  
Then he tapped on the back of his chair and smiled with his eyes.  
"I think it's better to rest here."

  


4.

Dropping Finch's pouring worries, Root scanned the library, picked up a few books and sat on the chair again.  
Startled, Finch looked back at her in the middle of exchanging information with Shaw in the field.  
"Please say to Shaw that I appreciate her work today."  
Silently, Finch handed Root a new cellphone and earpieces. Root received them and just shoved them in her pocket. Finch's eyes became wide with surprise, and Root waved the book in her hand to him.  
"Mr. Reese..."  
Finch made a sincerely worried look.  
'Oh, John. You really don't read books, do you?' Root shook her head as she opened Franz Kafka's 'Metamorphosis.'

「One morning, as Gregor Samsa was waking up from  
anxious dreams, he discovered that in bed he had been  
changed into a monstrous verminous bug」

Outstanding. She admired its first sentence. This was the very sentence describing the moment she woke up in a giant bug. While she read the first few pages carefully, she imagined Shaw's low voice behind Finch's phone call. If it were to happen anyway, she certainly wished to rather change into Shaw's body. Recalling Shaw's small but firm and voluptuous body, Root clicked her tongue. Accidents never happen in the form of a bonanza. Not in Shaw, not in Finch, but in John Reese's body. The universe is still very cold and life is irrational like Kafka's novel.  
"Or this could be a part of a greater plan."  
She was reminded of one person and his words, who believed in the world moving under a certain grand scheme, and muttered to herself. Cyrus Wells...  
But the only macroscopic plan she could accept was the Machine's.  
She straightened out her legs and narrowed her eyes to Finch's monitor. On the two or three screens, the number's bank account, credit information, and his company's specifics flashed and were gone following Finch's fingers.  
Yes, it is strange indeed.  
Once again Root focused on Harold Finch. The creator of the entity which changed the history of AI and AMA (artificial moral agent) sat in a place of exile and was saving lives. At this very moment Root herself was cooperating with him alongside the Machine, Harold Finch's humanism was so painstaking. If the NSPE (National Society of Professional Engineers) were to enact any annual award for observing engineers' ethics code, Harold Finch had to be nominated every year.

"Harold."  
When Root called him, Finch gave a brief nod while focusing on his work.  
"Have you ever wanted to communicate with the Machine directly, through Root?"  
Finch swiveled his chair and then stared at her and the book alternately. His hidden suspicion began to explode.  
"You are very peculiar today, John."  
"If you only tell her that you want it, Root will gladly ... share the channel."  
"Did Ms. Groves tell you so?"  
Root just shrugged her shoulder. Finch held his lips tight. He stared into the air and then suddenly answered the unseen partner.  
"The hotel's cleaning service usually begins from 10 a.m. You still have about 30 minutes."  
He was talking to Shaw.  
"Mr. Reese keeps questioning from the side. What? No, it's not that. Never mind."

Returning from the conversation, Finch's face was full of worried wrinkles as he searched for Reese's problem.  
'He is quite sensitive.' Root hid her eyes while pretending to stroke the book's spine. If this were to continue for more than a day, Harold would notice somehow.  
"My question may have penetrated into your heart too sharply."  
"If one asks whether this is the type of your question, it certainly is not."  
"I believe in neither the Machine nor Root," Root imitated Reese coolly, "The creator's silence always raises various imaginations, Harold. You have always shown reservations on the matter."  
As Root rested her chin on the book and waited, Finch's attitude softened a little. As if saying he couldn't help it, Finch subsided into his chair, put his hands on his temple then lowered them. Root observed approvingly, as Finch folded his fingers on his desk. It was Finch's habit when organizing his thoughts.  
"Although it's just a deduction, to start with the conclusion, Mr. Reese..." Finch parted his lips.  
"The Machine will not probably want such an action. From the moment it chose Ms. Groves, it already removed the option of communicating with Admin. Communicating with the original creator and the administrator Harold Finch is not allowed for the Machine, and that is the basic proposition. I exist but at the same time I am in the ignored category. Of course, some will see as if the Machine is respecting my intent to reject."  
"If so... Finch, what is your choice?"  
"As the admin and the creator, if I told you that I'm not interested in the so-called 'intimate' relationship between Ms. Groves and the Machine at all, you wouldn't believe either. Apart from the matter whether it's right, useful, or dangerous... I am interested in the algorithm that decided to contact Ms. Groves, and I am also dying to know how such analog communication and experiences have affected the Machine's adaptability and its rules. However..."  
While she listened intently, she got disappointed at his last conjunction. She rose from her chair a little hastily.  
"My belief that the Machine and I must stay away from each other is unchanged. It was an inevitable decision to maintain the Machine's purpose and its instrumental operation."  
"After what you witnessed yourself, the Machine's evolution beyond your expectations, you couldn't trust it still?"  
"Whether I trust it or not, did I ever mention its errors? The Machine doesn't have errors. Nevertheless, it was always loyal to send Relevant/Irrelevant numbers for us to watch. But during its management, foolishly and belatedly, I discovered the variable that is the people's psychology around the Machine. You may remember the conflict I had with Ms. Groves in the first place. The Machine's ethical sensitivity and instrumental autonomy cannot co-exist perfectly under human influence. Mr. Reese, this is the lesson we clearly learned through firsthand experiences over the years. "  
Listening to Finch's last speech, Root sighed.  
"It's really astonishing, Harold. As always, your belief is somewhat unfairly humanistic... and disappointing."  
Finch shrugged his shoulders sheepishly.  
"I thought you would understand this point."  
Then Finch lifted his chin slightly.  
"So you look truly strange today."  
But she could tell from his smile that Finch didn't mind her words. His smile was of course for Reese. Finch was always stiff in front of her.  
She never witnessed Finch's easygoing mood, his elderly way of speaking in front of Reese, his teasing tone and side-glances. But above all, she suddenly realized his affection revealed in those traits.

Finch limped to the pantry and poured himself more tea. He seemed to have gathered some more thoughts after a while. He tried to sit, then opened his mouth again.  
"In fact, when it comes to the Machine, I understand Ms. Groves' opinion completely. Even though I have to avoid her view as Harold Finch, on the other hand, she could have been another Finch if I had not taken the path of today. Being able to calculate infinite possibilities, the Machine is using its ability to deal with Samaritan and Decima.  
How can I not envy the relationship between Ms. Groves and the Machine? In the end, she was the Machine's reasonable choice. It is already legitimately interacting with her and me respectively. If so, do I have to be in direct contact with the Machine through her?  
John, when you went out to see Mr. Wells out before, I actually wanted to tell her these thoughts. I missed the timing when Detective Fusco came...  
Well, it didn't seem Ms. Groves wanted to hear such sentimental thoughts."  
Root listened to him in a daze. It was like eavesdropping his confession.  
"Ah, Excuse me."  
Finch's phone reconnected with Shaw.  
"Did you get out? Then do come in and have a talk. I cannot concentrate. Hmm. Yes, in a way... I'd appreciate it if you could take Bear from Detective Fusco on the way."  
Whatever Shaw said, Finch suddenly smiled in the middle of setting the cup to his lips.  
"I must admit, Harold, you are..."  
Root muttered to herself, and Finch cast a quizzical glance.  
As they say that when you get a heart transplant, you also receive the donor's memories and emotions, at that moment, fluttering and confused feelings captivated Root's heart. What caused the speeding of her heart was not her own. It was hard to distinguish if it was traces of her body's owner's feelings for Finch, or if it was her own feelings after hearing Finch's words. If the Machine were with her, she wanted to ask. Is this some part of a greater plan as well? But separated from the entity with limitless information, she felt lonely for the first time in a while.  
Root looked at the watch on her wrist. She still had some time. In spite of herself, she lifted Finch up from his chair. She held onto his rigid arms and kissed his tea leaf-scented lips.  
"It's not bad."  
Root murmured as she tasted the older man's lips for the first time in 25 years. She always regarded herself to be the only one who properly understood Harold's intellect and his creation. However, being inside the person who always watches and embraces Finch's other aspects, she decided to leave her actions entirely to John Reese's body's experience and his instincts beyond conscious thoughts. What different emotions is the helper monkey feeling inside me right now?


End file.
